★★★★

“the tension is expertly paced, punctuated with sharp quips and well-timed barbs that keep the drama crackling”

Ryan Calais Cameron’s Retrograde is a taut and electrifying drama that captures a pivotal moment in Sidney Poitier’s career and moral journey. It’s the mid-1950s, and Poitier is on the cusp of stardom. But, his breakout performance in Blackboard Jungle has brought him not only industry attention, but an altogether more sinister political attention. Now, on the verge of signing with New York-based TV network NBC, he faces a career-defining choice: sign a loyalty oath and make a public statement denouncing civil rights activist Paul Robeson or risk blacklisting.

This gripping three-hander, based in truth, stars Ivanno Jeremiah as Sidney Poitier, Oliver Johnstone as his friend Bobby, a white liberal screenwriter who has written a role for him, and Stanley Townsend as Parks, NBC’s ruthless lawyer who demands Poitier sign the oath. As Bobby and Poitier’s friendship is tested, both men must confront how much they are willing to sacrifice for career advancement. Self-interest begins to outweigh principles, and the stakes for all three characters become ever more apparent.

The play runs for 90 minutes without an interval, unfolding in real time as Poitier arrives for what he believes will be a straightforward contract signing. Bobby has been singing Poitier’s praises to Parks, but when Poitier enters, it quickly becomes clear that this is no ordinary meeting. When Bobby is asked to leave, and Parks and Poitier are left alone, the pressure intensifies. Parks reveals that this is not merely about a contract, Poitier must prove that this “Black-Black” actor from the Caribbean upholds “American values.” Their exchange is a harrowing power play, laying bare the racial and political tensions of the era.

Under Amit Sharma’s direction, the tension is expertly paced, punctuated with sharp quips and well-timed barbs that keep the drama crackling. Sharma ensures the psychological and moral dilemmas remain at the forefront. Moments of stillness land as powerfully as the play’s most charged exchanges, often lingering just long enough to make the next verbal moment of levity or cutting blow hit even harder.

Jeremiah delivers a magnetic performance, shifting from an unemployed actor forced to entertain white gatekeepers to a principled man refusing to compromise. Johnstone’s Bobby, brimming with nervous charm, subtly unravels as the tension escalates, his affability giving way to desperation. Townsend, on stage for most of the play, dominates as Parks, embodying cold, relentless pragmatism.

Frankie Bradshaw’s set design enhances the claustrophobic atmosphere. The single setting (a stark, mid-century NBC studio office) is both period-accurate and symbolically oppressive. A subtle but telling touch is a Notorious (1946) film poster on the office wall. Hitchcock’s thriller, centred on espionage and moral compromise, quietly reflects Poitier’s predicament. A prominent clock runs in real time, its ticking growing louder at key moments, reinforcing the inescapable pressure on Poitier, a subtle but effective auditory cue from sound designer Beth Duke. The play opens with period jazz and sound bites referencing Poitier’s growing reputation – significantly, voices of others commenting on him – making the final audio recording, in his own voice, all the more poignant.

Bradshaw’s costume design is equally thoughtful. Poitier’s outfit, a somewhat garish, ill-fitting mix of burgundy and burnt orange, feels out of place, making him appear exoticised beside the grey-suited establishment figures of Parks and Bobby, visually reinforcing the power imbalance. Lighting by Amy Mae plays a crucial role in shaping the mood. Stark, interrogative lighting casts deep shadows, reinforcing the feeling of entrapment. Subtle shifts in lighting reflect the evolving power struggle.

With Retrograde, Ryan Calais Cameron has crafted a play that not only honours Sidney Poitier’s legacy but also speaks powerfully to the present day. The dilemmas Poitier faced – navigating a system that demanded assimilation at the cost of authenticity – still ring true for many actors of colour today.

BARCELONA at the Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★★

“The performances are exceptionally strong. Collins is impressive as the loose cannon, unpredictable and unsure of herself.”

Two characters, a world apart, are thrown together in Bess Wohl’s play, “Barcelona”. The cultural divide is as gaping as you can get but our first glimpse of them sees them in an intimate, tongue-wrapping clinch, awkwardly fumbling in the semi-darkness of a plain apartment in Barcelona. As they break away from each other, she is far from tongue tied. Everything is ‘cute’. She has clearly had too much to drink, whereas he has had too much to think about. This is preceded by a burst of ill-fitting, dramatic music which is at odds with the tone of the opening scene. Yet we soon discover the inconsistency is deliberate as Wohl’s clever writing unfolds.

It is a deceptive piece. Seemingly shallow but concealing some dark waters beneath its surface. A surface riddled with metaphors and dramatic ironies once you get the knack of spotting them. Irene (Lily Collins) is an American, washed up in the Spanish city in an extended bachelorette party. Manuel (Álvaro Morte) has come from Madrid to stay in the apartment for reasons that become clear later. It turns out she was the one who picked him up in the bar – a kind of dare almost. Things have gone a bit further than she may have intended, but for now she is more than willing to go with the flow.

We start out not really caring. What is the attraction? Why have they come together? The initial carnal fumbling is sexless, and the reactionless chemistry leaves us cold. She is intensely irritating. He is incessantly irritated. After a particularly leaden faux pas, Irene exclaims ‘I hope I didn’t ruin the ambience’. For a moment we wonder where the ambience is that she is referring to. Yet – as the layers are chipped away, revelations appear bit by bit. Like that game in which another square reveals more of the picture. The more we cotton on, the more we engage. They are no longer caricatures but complex characters; a lack of motive or intention now replaced by twisted backstories that inspire sympathy.

The performances are exceptionally strong. Collins is impressive as the loose cannon, unpredictable and unsure of herself. Her innate paranoia and mistrust run deeper than the Rioja that she is knocking back. Clueless on the outside but clued up enough to sense that something is amiss. Morte gives a startlingly solid performance. Possessing a European no-nonsense savoir faire he appears carefree yet, when left alone for brief moments, his expressions betray a sinister danger. They are both their own wrecking balls and we wait for the self-destruction.

However, neither can quite hide the excesses of the text that, even at a slim ninety minutes, carry a little too much excess weight, while the dialogue could do with a quick work out. Manuel has less to say but perversely he says so much more, which is where Wohl’s writing works wonders as the larger arguments appear out of the subtle magic of small talk. There is a gorgeous moment when Manuel picks apart Irene’s declaration of being ‘proud to be an American’. In a dismissive and heartfelt swoop, Manuel issues a polemic that covers a landscape of imperialism, displacement, ancestry even touching on genocide. The politics that seep into the arguments manage to sit perfectly with the personal; while references to the al-Qaeda terrorist attack in Madrid take on a harrowing emotional quality.

Lynette Linton’s tight direction moves the action neatly from its long night’s journey into day, the passage of time wonderfully evoked by Jai Morjaria’s lighting and haunting use of shadows. As daybreak creeps through the side window, self-knowledge (for Irene at least) dawns with the realisation that maybe she knows nothing. A Socratic paradox that represents a kind of umbrella under which the characters try to shelter from their own conundrums. Outside the apartment window is Barcelona’s famous Basílica de la Sagrada Família. Building began in 1882, but it is still unfinished. It is a fitting metaphor. The play, ultimately, suffers from a lack of resolution. It feels like an episode of a much greater story. An utterly enticing instalment, nonetheless. Another paradox. By curtain call, we feel like we’ve had enough. Yet we are left wanting more.

Tag Archives: Frankie Bradshaw

RETROGRADE

★★★★

Apollo Theatre

RETROGRADE

Apollo Theatre

★★★★

“the tension is expertly paced, punctuated with sharp quips and well-timed barbs that keep the drama crackling”

RETROGRADE

Apollo Theatre

Reviewed on 20th March 2025

by Ellen Cheshire

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

FAWLTY TOWERS THE PLAY | ★★★★★ | May 2024

MIND MANGLER | ★★★★ | March 2024

THE TIME TRAVELLER’S WIFE | ★★★ | November 2023

POTTED PANTO | ★★★★★ | December 2022

CRUISE | ★★★★★ | August 2022

MONDAY NIGHT AT THE APOLLO | ★★★½ | May 2021

RETROGRADE

RETROGRADE

RETROGRADE

BARCELONA

★★★★

Duke of York’s Theatre

BARCELONA at the Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★★

“The performances are exceptionally strong. Collins is impressive as the loose cannon, unpredictable and unsure of herself.”